Somewhere Between the Depths

Chapter Fourteen

Nora

I'm leaning as far away from Cash as I can, one elbow propped on the door while I grip the wheel with one hand. We're flying down the highway, already twenty minutes out of Variety when Cash finally breaks the silence. 

"I'm sorry." 

The inside of the jeep is dark except for the occasional streetlight on the darkened highway. I roll my eyes at his sorry ass apology, refusing to look in his direction. How can you even begin to apologize for taking part in ruining someone's life? The cold truth is nothing he says will change what happened to me. Why did I agree to this drive?

Cash sighs, "This calls for something stronger than a Marlboro." 

There's a flick of a lighter and the unmistakable scent of pot fills the car. He holds the joint out for me. I hesitate for a moment but decide what the hell. The night has already gone to shit, might as well get a buzz out of it. 

"I know I can't fix what happened. If I could go back..." He shakes his head, taking the joint back, "but I can't. I want to get to know you, I know I'm about twenty-two years late, but I want to be a part of your life, Nora."

"Seriously? That's your big speech? Telling me to just deal with it and move on because we can't go back? Fuck you, dude." I snap. 

Cash is quiet for a few miles, silently taking puffs off the joint. Ten minutes later, I pull over at a rest stop, letting the car idle while I contemplate continuing on foot or kicking his ass out of my car when he speaks again.

"Do you know how many ways there are to torture a person?" Cash asks, his tone growing darker. 

"I know a few." I admit.

"I know of more than just a few. And let me be clear, if Jace Prescott wasn't already dead, I would've found a way to use every single one of them." 

I turn toward him, pulling my knee up to my chest and rest my back against my door before snatching the joint from the ash tray of my car and relighting it. I take a long drag, giving him the floor. 

"When I found out Charlotte was pregnant, I was barely nineteen. My best-friend and I had just become the President and Vice-President of the most notorious motorcycle club in South Carolina and my rap sheet was a mile long. I wasn't equipped to be a father, but I loved her. I was ready to leave it all behind for her. The club, my brothers, the only family I'd ever had. I was ready to get on the straight and narrow and become a suit and tie kind of man for both of you. But your mama," Cash breathes out a cloud of smoke, "she had a certain vision for her life, one that didn't involve a blue-collar man and living on love and sunshine. She wanted something more glamorous than I could ever dream of giving her." 

"So what? You just traded us off then?" 

"Of course not. Charlotte came to me; told me she met a rich man who was interested in her and could provide better than I could. She wanted to be with him, begged me to sign you over to her and stay away. I fought it at first, already in love with you by then, but she convinced me that I was nothing more than a criminal. That I would be a terrible father.  I was heartbroken to say the least, but everything she said was true. I was a criminal, an outlaw down to my core, and I knew I would never make it living straight." 

"I think we can conclude that her opinion was trash." I offer Cash a lifeline, some of my anger slipping away. 

He chuckles quietly, "She's not who I thought she was, that's for sure." 

Silence stretches on between us after that, and I mull over everything that Cash has told me. Deep down I know I can't blame him either. No one, not even my own Gran knew what was going on. The only ones who knew were Jace and my mother, and she was more than willing to turn a blind eye to my torment. Jace and Charlotte were the villains of my story, everyone else was just collateral damage. 

"I know you hate me for this. You don't understand how badly I wish I could go back and change it, take you with me and raise you in the life. That would've been better than what you endured. I could've protected you. When I heard you were in town... I hoped... I still hope that I could get to know you, if that's what you want." Cash stubs out the roach, waiting quietly for my answer. 

I cast my first real glance at the man who shares my blood. And as badly as I want to hate him, to take my rage out on him, I find myself losing steam rapidly. My head is slowly clearing, the fight draining out of me with every second that passes. Truthfully, I'm so goddamn tired of being angry. 

"I don't hate you." I murmur, staring down at my lap, "But my hate for him is so fucking big, it bleeds onto everyone who gets too close to me. Sometimes I think he's ruined me." 

Cash reaches out, tentatively squeezing my knee. "I'm a Horseman, kid. I'm not scared of a little blood." 

I can't help the smile that crosses my mouth, and I say the first thing that comes to mind, "You would've raised me better than they ever did." 

"You think so?" 

"You raised the man I love and he's damn near perfect," I shrug, glancing over and catching his eye again, "I think I would've been alright." 

We both stare at each other, silently marking all the similarities in our faces and then, at the same time, the left side of our mouths tip up in a mirrored smirk. All is not forgiven, the wound between us is still miles deep, but I think, just maybe, this could be the first stitch.